


I Chose Brothers of a Different Kind Instead

by timeforsomethrillingheroics



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: AU where it was never just about the dog, M/M, Set in Season 3, more specifically: 3x6 'The Push' and 3x8 'Lochan Mor'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 12:35:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeforsomethrillingheroics/pseuds/timeforsomethrillingheroics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'I'm not okay with this.' Tig had said. Then added 'I don't trust him' for good measure. Because it was easier than trying to explain 'I can't be okay with this' and 'I don't trust myself'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Chose Brothers of a Different Kind Instead

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I started rewatching season 3 and this was a thing that happened.
> 
> I'd like to make this a multichaptered work, but I'm notoriously bad at finishing things. If it is something you are interested in seeing more of let me know!
> 
> Also I feel dumb for putting this as a warning because /Sons of Anarchy/ but? Violence? If you don't like some minor blood maybe skip this fic. 
> 
> Unbetad so please point out any mistakes, canon or otherwise.

'I'm not okay with this.' Tig had said. Then added 'I don't trust him' for good measure. Because it was easier than trying to explain 'I can't be okay with this' and 'I don't trust myself'. 

It's startling really, when you think about it. How much of a difference two words can make. Somehow he thinks Clay sees through him despite the carefully crafted disdain, but he leaves it alone. 

Tig was absurdly grateful that the life lesson Clay chose to be imparted with from 20 plus years of friendship was there were some things you could call him on and some things you really couldn't. 

It was nice that at least one person in the club knew the difference. 

Sure, Clay would do whatever he was planning to do anyways, and the unimpressed glare wasn't particularly _pleasant_ , but at least he didn't have to talk about it. 

He preferred to let old wounds fester in peace, thanks. 

And as long as Kozik couldn't tell the different he didn't really give a shit what anyone else thought. 

It was exhausting to actively hate someone though. Especially someone who never took the bait and and only tried to fight back to repair something you desperately wanted to stay broken. Like two solid taps to the jaw would fix eight years of avoidance and rage. And yeah, it probably would too. 

So he started to hate him for new things. 

Like for making him feel guilty. For not backing down. For daring to say "I missed her too you know", like all they were fighting over was Missy. That he never called Tig on it. That he genuinely seemed to think they'd be able to be brothers after everything that happened. That he wasn't angry. That it was so easy for him to wear Tig down.

Just like he knew it would be. 

So he fought harder. Used fists instead of words. If it looked like the last bloody battle before a strategic surrender, he chose to ignore the warning signs. 

They're arguing over a dead man in church and suddenly fists are flying. It takes four people to pull them apart and Tig feels better than he has in months. This, he knows how to do. _This_ is something he's good at. And that's dangerous. Because fighting and fucking have always gone hand in hand for Tig and anything associated with Kozik that doesn't make his rage go deeper is a bad idea. 

For just a moment he forgets why he's supposed to be angry. He looses himself in action and reaction. The sting of his knuckles and the sound of bone hitting flesh. Fighting dirty, the only way he knows how. Kozik giving as good as he gets. And then he's getting hauled backwards and he remembers why this was a horrible idea. Why Kozik had been pushing for this for so long. 

He doesn't want to be healed. 

He doesn't want to work out his anger. 

He needs to hold onto it. Fuel it.

So it doesn't turn into something worse. 

And now they're at a gym and it's happening all over again and he should let it go - he knows he should let it go, but he can't. If Kozik had just left it with 'That was a lucky knee dude' he might have gotten away clean, but he'd always know exactly the right buttons to push. The right thing to say to make Tig loose it. And as he's turning around he hears 'Yeah, I'd be afraid to get in the ring with me too' and knows he's lost. Because Kozik finally called him on it. He can't even tell if it was intentional or not, but it doesn't matter. Because it's one thing to be a coward and a complete nother to have someone acknowledge it. If that happens, well. You have to prove them wrong no matter the consequences. Once you can no longer lie to yourself you aren't allowed to avoid it anymore. Those are the rules he's lived by for the last 20 years and he's not about to stop now. 

He ducks under the ropes, looks at Koziks wide grin and everything feels _right_. And this is exactly what Kozik wanted so he can't let it show on his face. He's planning on making him work for it. 

If he's lost, he's at least going to wait until it's inevitable for Kozik to figure it out. 

He lets Kozik get in the first shot, because yeah - he's probably earned it, and then goes all in. 

Feels the force of impact jar along his side, crouches slightly and then slams upwards and suddenly they aren't boxing anymore. Kozik plows into him, knocking them both to the mat and Tig can feel the breath rush out of his lungs. He had forgotten how big Kozik was. Kind of hard to now, as 6 feet and one hundred and eighty lbs lands directly on his rib cage. He gets two solid shots to Kozik's unprotected side before they split apart. Tig's back on his feet first but Kozik isn't far behind and they're circling each other like wounded animals but the grin hasn't left Kozik's face and Tig wants to do more than make him bleed. He wants to make him _hurt_. 

He closes in. Doesn't even bother bringing his guard up. 

Maybe he wants to hurt a little too he thinks vaguely as he feels Herman's knuckles connect solidly with the side of his face. But his fist is buried in Kozik's sternum and he accomplished what he wanted to. He can't feel his hand and his face is on fire where open air is hitting his split lip, but it was worth it.

Neither of them are smiling now.

Herman's doubled over, and Tig thinks maybe if he was someone else he wouldn't press his advantage. But this is what Herman wanted and if he has to forgive and forget he's going to cause as much damage as humanly possible before then. He spits out a mouthful of blood and barrels inward, pounding away at Hermans guard, feeling each impact shudder up the length of his arm and then Kozik looks up and Tig knows for the first time in the fight he's not going to hold back right before he explodes and Tig has to stop thinking.

Everything is a blur of sound and color and wet gasps for air. Kozik's got blood running into his left eye and Tig doesn't even remember when he hit him. Tig's smiling now, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. He's in his element and for once in the last eight years something to do with Herman feels _right_.

That's right about the time Kozik lets out something that sounds suspiciously like a growl and grabs him by the shoulders, bashing his forehead straight into Tigs with enough force for Tig's eyes to unfocus. 

And then somehow he's in a headlock choking for air, Kozik's impossibly strong arm wrapped like a boa constrictor around his throat, locked firmly into place at the elbow. Tig starts hammering at his exposed ribs but Kozik just grunts and shakes him like a wet dog. Saying 'give up' with out ever having to utter the words. 

So Tig does the only thing he can do. 

Drops. Let's himself become dead weight, and then lashes out as hard as he can, bringing them both to the floor. 

Kozik still has one arm around his throat but now Tig's on top and he's trying to crush the breath out of him, one hand buried firmly in the other mans hair, grip like iron as he pulls Kozik's head back and then smashes it down on the mat over and over again. Neither of them can breathe and Tig's vision is going red when he finally feels the fight start to go out of Kozik's body. Kozik gives one last defiant squeeze before they're rolling apart in a synchronized movement, just like they always had. 

No one winning, but no one admitting defeat either. 

And if Tig's half hard when he pulls away - well. 

He'd always been a little fucked up. 

It takes him a moment to get his breath back. 

Even longer to remember he's lying on a practice mat gasping for air with an audience. It takes one of the prospects nervously clearing his throat (he can't be bothered to learn there names yet. In a year, _maybe_. He doubts they'll last that long though) to come back to himself. 

He gets up first because even that's a battle, but Kozik's the first one out of the ring. He looks madder than Tig remembers seeing him since he voted down his transfer. And that's a victory. Because it means he doesn't know Tig's beaten yet. 

Tig doesn't have to fake angry as he steps out off the mat. 

And if the prospects assume hes angry with Kozik and not himself? 

Well. 

He's not going to bother to correct them.


End file.
